


Presumed Dead

by crystalesbian



Category: Gone Girl (2014), Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bella Gone Girls Edward, Every Vampire Is Lesbians, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:39:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalesbian/pseuds/crystalesbian
Summary: Edward Cullen never loved me. Edward loved a girl he had created from the hollowed-out shell of me. A girl who was smart and cultured but never pretentious, and always a bit dumber than him. A girl who was every bit as desirable as a girl could be, but had the decency not to know it. A girl who never took, only gave and gave until she had nothing left to give.You think I'd let him destroy me and get away with it?No fucking way.-A sort of Gone Girl AU with lesbianism.





	Presumed Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, bare with me, because this fic is in first person.
> 
> I know. I haven't written in first person since I was in 9th grade. But I thought it was important to get into Bella's mind, and trying to write that in third person just didn't feel right, so here we are.
> 
> Anyway, it's a Gone Girl AU but not really. You'll see.

Edward Cullen didn’t love me. I’ve stopped believing that he had ever loved me for even a second. Edward loved a girl he created from the hollowed-out shell of me. Isabella Cullen. A girl who didn’t care about frivolous, material things like every other girl did. No, she cared only cared about  _ important _ things, things like art and literature and music. But she wasn’t pretentious. Oh no. She was smart, she was cultured, but she didn’t flaunt it. She knew he knew more than her, and she gladly accepted that. She let him teach her.

He taught me everything. He taught me how to be the most perfect, desirable girl I could be, and he taught me how to be oblivious to how desirable I was. Desirable girls who knew they were desirable were no longer desirable, they were vain. The girl Edward loved wasn’t vain.

The girl who Edward loved was selfless to a fault. Isabella Cullen was Mother Fucking Teresa. She loved everyone but herself. Why would she ever dream of loving herself when she could love him? Why should she ever need to love herself when he loved her? Wasn’t that enough? The girl he loved gave and gave, unconditionally and unthinkingly, and never took anything in return. She gave until there was nothing left to give.

I gave myself to him until there was nothing left to give. And when there was nothing left of me to give, what else could I do but take?

I started slow. I didn’t dare take more than I needed; not even close. It was sidelong glances at girls in coffee shops and libraries and museums, the places Isabella Cullen liked to spend her time. I was careful. He was always by my side, so I could make sure not to take too much. So I couldn’t feel guilty. How could I feel guilty about innocent exchanges with women, with my husband watching the whole time?

For a while, those exchanges, the brush of the fingertips with a waitress at an italian restaurant, the smile from the young artist giving a speech at a gallery opening, were the happiest moments of my life.

And then Rosalie Hale arrived. 

For the longest time, Rosalie was simply an idea to me. She was a story Edward had told me, a cautionary tale. The shrewish, stubborn, estranged adopted sister who had abandoned her family for reasons unknown. Who turned her back on the people who saved her, the people who had given her everything, without so much as an explanation or a goodbye.

Rosalie was at the house for less than an hour. Edward and the rest of his family were out of town on a hunting trip. Edward’s loving wife didn’t like hunting, so she stayed home. Edward’s sister Alice had also stayed home to keep his wife company. And Edward’s brother Emmett had to stay home to wait on Rosalie Hale.

She came by to drop off the divorce papers, to once and for all cut any remaining ties to the loving, inviting, gracious Cullens. Edward didn’t want me to see her. But I came down those stairs anyway, I saw her sitting at the living room coffee table, and I locked eyes with her.

She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, but that was almost tangential. What caught my eye, what intrigued me more than anything else, was that she was the antithesis of Isabella Cullen. Rosalie Hale was shallow and vain and selfish. Rosalie  _ took _ .

And so she took. She took me to my husband’s bedroom, and she fucked me. 

Rosalie  _ gave _ , and I took what she had to give.

That was the moment I stopped being Isabella Cullen. Isabella died in the same bed where she lost her virginity to her husband on her wedding night. And from her ashes rose a girl who I thought Edward had murdered long ago.

Bella Swan woke up in those sheets, screaming Rosalie Hale’s name.

**Author's Note:**

> [My personal tumblr,](http://crystalesbian.tumblr.com/) and the [blog where I post my writing.](http://emreys.tumblr.com/) You can come bother me on either.


End file.
